


In a Crowd of Thousands

by pietrosminimoff



Category: Anastasia (1997), 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Amnesia, Anastasia AU, Creepy Kristoph Gavin, Hobo Phoenix Wright, I'm Bad At Tagging, Inspired by Anastasia (1997 & Broadway), M/M, Magic, Not Beta Read, Phoenix is a good dad, Slow Burn, criminal apollo justice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 13:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30005400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietrosminimoff/pseuds/pietrosminimoff
Summary: Anastasia AU of Klapollo. Klavier Gavin is the long-lost prince of Japanifornia; Kaine has no memory of who he was before he turned up at an orphanage at the age of 8, with his only clue being a necklace that says "Together in New York". Apollo Justice and Phoenix Wright are old friends, looking to make enough money to live in luxury. Klavier Gavin's grandmother is looking for her long-lost grandson.
Relationships: Apollo Justice & Phoenix Wright & Trucy Wright, Garyuu Kyouya | Klavier Gavin/Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright & Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice, Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright & Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	In a Crowd of Thousands

**Author's Note:**

> so: Kaine is Klavier. I needed a name that was kind of common like how Anya is common, because obviously Klavier isn't a common name nor does it have any common nicknames. also i did name the dog daryan.

Apollo glanced over the edge of a balcony, down at the bustling city below him. He was in a nearly-abandoned shop, where drug dealers and back-end sales happened, where swindlers and fools exchanged money and goods. He certainly was one of those things. When he looked back inside the building, Apollo noticed a bedraggled man in a disheveled hoodie, clearly not making any attempt to look decent. Apollo couldn’t say much, since he was dressed casually, but at least he made an  _ effort _ . He crossed the room to him, brushing past other people trying to sell things in a way that reminded him of a flea market, and grabbed the man’s arm. He jolted slightly, surprised by the sudden contact, but smiled at Apollo.

“Phoenix,” Apollo nodded, before turning his head to the girl clutching his free arm. “Trucy.”

Trucy smiled at him innocently, but he knew all too well what she was capable of – she may have been an even better con artist than her father. 

Phoenix didn’t attempt to shake Apollo’s grip and instead began moving through the crowd. They were looking for specific things, specific  _ items _ : clothing, jewelry, possessions of the deceased royal family that these traders were trying to sell fakes or replicas of, or in some cases, the real thing. Someone passed Apollo a coat, insisting it was real, and he looked at it, deciding that even if it wasn’t real, it was close enough. He pulled a few tens out of his back pocket and handed it to the merchant. 

“I found a theater. Everything is going according to plan,” Phoenix told him as they perused the rest of the aisles. They weren’t really searching anymore, just looking to see if something would catch their eye, but it never hurt to have more things.

“All we need is the guy,” Apollo concurred, folding the coat over his arm. They headed downstairs, and into the streets. “Soon, we won’t need to forge papers or steal goods. We’ll have four tickets out of here: one for you, one for Trucy, one for me, and one for ‘Klavier’! We’ll find a boy to play the part, and teach him what to say, dress him up and take him to New York. Imagine the reward his grandmother will pay! What is it, ten million?” 

Phoenix led him through the crowd, keeping his voice barely loud enough to be heard above the people around him. He nodded. “ _ The _ biggest con in history; aside from the money, we’ll be famous!” He picked Trucy up, an impressive feat for someone that complained about his back so much. 

Apollo reached into his bag, feeling the coup de grâce: a music box that he’d stolen from the palace as a child. It had been a present from Klavier’s grandmother to him, one that he’d taken while fleeing just in case. Now, it was his most prized possession. It was the key to ‘proving’ whatever boy fit the part best was the ‘real’ Klavier, a necessity for such a complex con.

* * *

Kaine waltzed out of the orphanage into the brisk December air, Walter following him with a sour look on his wrinkly face. “I got you a job down by the docks,” he was saying, while Kaine hugged his guitar case close to him. He wasn’t really listening. It was a beautiful day, as long as you were wearing a sweater, and the old man behind him just wanted to criticize him! “When you get to the fork in the road, go  _ left _ ,” Walter urged. Kaine turned around, but didn’t look at the decrepit old man who had raised him for the past ten years.

“Goodbye! Auf Wiedersehen!” Kaine exclaimed, waving at the children in the windows. He had cared for most of them himself, even as a teenager.

“Are you listening to me?” Walter spat, tugging at his scarf.

“I’m listening!” Kaine insisted.

“You’ve been tormenting me ever since you showed up here, acting like the King of France instead of the nobody you are!” Walter dragged him by his scarf to the gate, and Kaine made a face.

“The last French king died in 1793, Walt,” he corrected.

Walter made an affronted sound. “For the last ten years, I’ve fed you, clothed you, kept a roof over your head, and all you’ve done is get smart with me! You have no clue who you were before you came to us, yet you somehow retain enough to talk back!”

“Well, I do have-”

“I know! I know! ‘Together in New York!’ That necklace of yours!” Walter interrupted, his face turning red from sheer irritation. It was one of Kaine’s many talents. “Take your place in life, and be grateful for what you have.” With that, he shut the metal gate on Kaine, laughing bitterly as he headed back into the orphanage. Kaine shrugged, setting off down the road.

It was a long, straight path, and it took over an hour to reach the fork in the road. He stared at the signs, one pointing to Los Angeles, and one to some city down by the docks. And sure, Los Angeles did have its beaches, but it wasn’t smelling of fish and factories. At least, not in his imagination. If he went left, he’d be Kaine No Last Name forever. If he went right… maybe he could find some way to get to New York. He’d studied in books that were scattered around the orphanage; he knew how far New York was. But wasn’t it worth it? At the very least, it’d be an adventure, and an opportunity to get out. Whoever gave him his necklace must have loved him, right?

But that was crazy. Kaine? In New York? It was out of his reach, nothing more than a stupid dream. He sighed, sitting down on the cold ground at the base of the sign. Maybe the universe would send him a sign? 

He heard a dog barking loudly, and then he saw the small dog, tugging at his scarf. It looked like a terrier. How cute! He tugged his scarf away, not wanting to ruin it, and extended his hand so the dog could sniff it. After a moment, it licked him, and he took that as an invitation to pet it. 

“Well, what do you think, little guy?” he asked the dog. The dog couldn’t speak, so it gave no verbal answer. It did pull away and start walking toward the right, though. Kaine, desperate for a sign, decided that was his sign. He picked up the dog. “Okay, Daryan. Let’s go!”

  
Somewhere down the road, there was a family in a little house, parents with two young kids. It was heartwarming, and they were kind. It made his heart ache. Surely, he must have had those things, right? 


End file.
